


Balance

by Kass



Series: The Sentinel fanworks [39]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Time, M/M, post-TSbyBS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-07
Updated: 2008-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not always easy finding the right balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

> The epigrams come from Pirke Avot ("Wisdom of the Fathers"), a collection of rabbinic wisdom. Thanks to Sihaya and Justine for the snappy beta-reads.

###    
I. If I am not for myself, who will be for me?  


Numb first, then angry, then numb again. In that order.

That he would do this to me, after all this time. No, not just to me: to us. Because, yeah, I've been thinking in terms of "us." Even if we're not _involved_, we were a team. We were partners. And suddenly I don't feel like we're partners anymore.

"Involved." Jesus. It's never been easy to imagine taking that leap. Fantasize about it, sure; actually picture taking the risk, never. For once, my inhibitions did me a favor. This feels like being slapped in the face; if we'd been lovers before he did this, I...

I can't imagine this hurting more than it does, but I know it would.

The more I think about it, the worse it gets. My mind is jumping: imagined soundbytes of him making a deal with some sleazy publisher, mixed with mental replays of the scene in the truck. "Ellison, can you tell us why you decided to reveal your abilities at this time, sir?" Reveal my abilities. Christ, like I'm Clark Kent coming out as Superman.

The day gets worse and worse: Rafe needling me about tights and a cape, the fucking TV show thing. The chorus of "We're not worthy."

Night passes, and the next day's just as bad. And the day after that. Tense silence in the apartment, a walking hell at work: the flash bulbs, the reporters.

Amazing the way one piece of information can change your whole world. One minute everything's normal, the next minute everything's gone to shit. "The taller one-that's got to be the sentinel!" Hearing that word out of somebody else's mouth...my whole body went cold.

I'm not sure I've warmed up since.

I almost feel bad for Naomi when we're standing around the kitchen. She keeps trying to say we can't let it tear our friendship apart. Because she can't deal with the fact that it already has. There's no more friendship to salvage. It's gone. It's like the week Carolyn and I decided to call it quits: once the words come out of your mouth, suddenly you're not married anymore.

###    
II. But if I am only for myself, who am I?  


I don't think Mom knows what I'm going to do. I hinted, but I couldn't actually tell her. Afraid she'd talk me out of it.

It wouldn't have been that hard. Man. I'd never imagined...what it would be like to almost get everything, and then to have to give it all up. The book. Tenure, probably. Having people finally know and understand everything I've been working towards. Other sentinels being able to read my book, to know what they are, to stop hiding. Jim being able to be proud of his differences, instead of frightened by them.

I want it so bad. I want it so bad I can taste the wanting, like copper in my mouth.

But I can't do it to Jim. If dying and coming back taught me anything, that's what it taught me: that I'm not in this alone. He's saved my life, time and again. Payback for the times I saved his. And that makes us doubly-bound, and it means I can't do this to him.

I'm not sure this is going to fix things. Between us, I mean. It'll take the heat off him, which means at least he can do his job again.

Not that I'll be there to see it.

The dean's not going to be happy. Something tells me I'm going to be out of two jobs by the time this is over. I don't have any idea what comes next. Some travel, maybe. I'm not going to see the world as an anthropologist; might as well see it as a plain old traveler. Nepal. The Canadian Rockies. The Silk Road. The world was supposed to be my oyster, right, Mom? Maybe it's time for me to stop playing professor and start playing Wandering Jew for a while.

And maybe after a while Jim will get it. That this wasn't ever about the brass ring. I mean, maybe it was, for the first _week_, but after that...it was about him.

It was about us.

It's always been about us.

Okay. They're ready. My hands will not shake. I am walking up to the podium. I am walking up to the podium.

"We're going live," the guy says, and everybody's looking at me.

My hands are not shaking. I open my mouth to speak.

###    
III. And if not now, when?  


"Hey, look, Tim and Kara are getting married." Sandburg drops the invitation onto the pile of opened mail by the side of the coffee table.

"That's great. When?"

He shrugs. "Didn't look."

"Aren't you going?"

His mouth moves, but it's not quite a smile. "Doubt it. Not sure I'm up to seeing everybody."

Everybody. His old department. I imagine Joel remarrying and me not being able to go, and the dull ache transmutes to a sharp pang for a second. I sit beside him.

"You should be there." Trying to sound persuasive.

He leans his head back, not looking at me. "Maybe."

It's been a month. He says he's enjoying the Academy. Every now and then I hear flashes of a real laugh, but they're rare.

I hate this.

I think I know what isn't working. Shit like this is supposed to teach you something, move you somewhere. And I know where it's supposed to move us. I'm just not sure how to get there.

"How long have they been together, Chief?"

He considers. "Five years," he says after a moment, quirking a half-smile. "Since I finished undergrad."

I'm not sure how to get there, but I'm going to try. "You ever wonder what makes a couple take the plunge like that?"

If I weren't listening so closely, I wouldn't have heard him inhale. Deep. Like a yoga breath.

He doesn't answer, so I continue. "You think something happens, to make them decide to go for it?"

"Nah," he says. He's looking over at me, now, but his face is almost expressionless. Still waters run deep, isn't that what they say? "I think it's a balance thing. You know, you start out with all the reasons not to take the plunge, but over time those reasons...fade. And the reasons to go for it get stronger. And after a while, the scales just tip."

I nod. There's a pause, an awkward silence, while I try to gauge how to play this. "Like coming out," I say, finally.

Suddenly there's a hint of a smile behind his eyes. And maybe some relief, too, if I'm reading him right. "You trying to tell me something, Ellison?"

I nod.

He breathes. In. Out. "Y'know, it would be a shame to miss Tim's wedding."

I wait for it.

"Might suck less if I had a date."

He grins, and I grin, and then I'm moving to wrap my arms around him. And at this moment it's not about the desire, although I've been there before, and it'll come. It's about finally feeling the ice melting. It's about taking the plunge, knowing it's the right call.

It's about finding the balance. Finally. Coming home.


End file.
